The Case of the Meade Estate
by CloakedHestia
Summary: In which the mystery solving skills of Betty and Henry are put to the test... film noir style! Based loosely on I See Me, I.C.U.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Ugly Betty (or American film noir) . I'm just a fan and I write for fun.

**Authors Notes**: So, I've been thinking about the last episode and what a great crime solving duo my favorite nerd-tastic pair makes. You know, it isn't the first time Henry and Betty teamed up to help Daniel (see: Petra Gate and Swag). In case you don't know, I'm a big fan of mysteries, and as a CSI fan I wondered how these two would do as private investigator and partner... better yet, what if they worked together on solving crimes in epic 1950s film noir fashion? So giving into my "plot bunny" I present you, "fic noir". Some details and situations have been changed to make it more _mysterious_. Enjoy!

**The Case of the Meade Estate**

It seemed like a typical morning. Sitting in his padded chair and looking out his window, listlessly. He hadn't gotten a single case in the last few weeks. Business was bleak but he kept his cool and held on to the hope that his dry spell was temporary. After all, this was New York. The gritty streets of the Big Apple were rife with horrors no ordinary person could even imagine. The cops could only do so much...

Swiveling around on his chair he glanced at his tiny office. A bookshelf in the corner and two or three framed placards showing off years of hard work and continuous studying. He wasn't what most would consider 'street smart', though he was getting there. He was 'book smart' through and through, and that was a trait rival private eyes envied; though he looked up to them and all they stood for.

Sitting behind his meticulously polished cherry wood desk, he thought back to his first case. A young fresh faced guy thirsty for justice, and willing to apply his deductive reasoning to help however he could. A green detective if there ever was one but the case had been solved and he even managed to meet his future partner working it. He had owed a lot to his partner but recalled how his fervent thanks was dismissed with a humble blush; one of many traits he liked about…

There was a soft knock at the door. He had no secretary so he got up and answered it himself. As soon as he opened the door, he came face to face with a tall, blue eyed woman. Pale blonde hair framing her porcelain face. She held a cigarette in her hand and was decked out in black. She seemed familiar... but where had he seen her face?

"Hello. I hope you can help me. I'm in a terrible mess."

Never one to turn away a damsel in distress, and sensing his next big case afoot, he let her in and offered her a seat. When he was safely in his own chair, he set his folded hands on the table and put on his most serious face.

"What seems to be the trouble, Miss...?"

"Alexis Meade."

"Of the media conglomerate Meades? Do you know Daniel Meade?"

"Yes. I'm his sister," she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, wiping away unseen tears, "That's why I came to you. Our family is in trouble. My father's dead and his will is hidden away somewhere…"

"So you need me to find it?"

"It's _very important_," she said in a hushed voice, "That will of his has information about his estate that's very valuable to me and many others. I know one particular woman who's itching to get her hands on it."

He nodded, "I'll take the case. My retainer fee is non-negotiable," he wrote something down on a sheet of paper he had handy, then passed it to the unsmiling woman.

"Reasonable price," she pulled out a large sum of money from her purse and handed it to him.

"Do you always carry that much with you?" He asked with wide eyes.

"That's not all of it. I'll pay you the rest when I get the will," she stood up dramatically and made her way to the door, "I'll keep in touch, detective."

With that, he had himself a new case. It was odd how all of his major cases so far involved the Meades in some way. As soon as he grabbed his phone, his plucky partner opened his door, a tense look on her face.

"Just about to call you, kiddo," he smiled at the young woman.

Indeed, his partner was a much younger woman with long, dark brown hair and red glasses that concealed her warm, brown eyes. Her bilingualism was a help when encountering Spanish suspects and helpful witnesses alike. He even learned a few Spanish phrases from her; things he couldn't get out of a regular Spanish/English dictionary.

She had met him on his first case, and her intuitive wit as well as her dedication to his boss had really impressed him. Ever since then they were a team, she eventually became his partner. Her infectious enthusiasm and young looks earned her the nickname 'kiddo', a name he was sure didn't come to him on his own. Perhaps he heard it in a picture but it suited her to a tee and once he got into the habit of something, he found it hard to stop. An odd little quirk, that was only superseded by his knack for memorizing odd bits of trivia.

"I just saw Daniel's sister walking out of building. What was she doing here?"

"I figured you'd know. She hired me to find her father's will. She needs information regarding her father's estate."

She frowned, "Alexis Meade hired you? I'm not so sure about her…"

"What's wrong? She isn't trustworthy?"

"She and Daniel aren't exactly the closest of siblings," she put a hand on her chin in thought, "But as long as Daniel sees the will…" she turned gave him a look, "So what now?"

"I call a few people and get some information," Henry said smoothly.

"I'll do the same. We're gonna need something," she sat outside while he made his inquiries via telephone. After letting her use the phone for a brief call, the two compared notes.

"I got a guy whose sister's cousin is engaged to the club owner where a woman in blue sings. She was supposedly with Mr. Meade when he hid away his will. Might have even hidden it at the club, in a safe. What have you got?"

Betty smiled and held out a slip of paper, "The combination to the safe."

He stared at her for a moment, "How…?"

"I called the wife. Mrs. Meade. She cooperated fully and yes, it is hidden in a safe at a club in Harlem. He trusted the owner."

"Well let's go," he exclaimed.

""""""""

The address Henry obtained from his 'friend of a friend' led them to a secluded club in a rundown part of Harlem. Once inside, they were greeted by heavy smoke and dim lights. There were no more than six or seven people having drinks inside but the unfamiliar atmosphere and the seedy characters kept them on guard as they looked around for the 'woman in blue'. Over on the small wooden stage, a ratty red curtain covering the wall, there stood a band comprised of four men, each playing four different brass instruments. They played jovial jazz tunes which rang out over the low murmurs of the patrons.

"How will we know who this 'woman in blue' is?" Betty asked him.

"Well there aren't many people in here, kiddo. We'll just have to keep our eyes open and stay close."

They stayed near the back, noting only one other person sitting in a small corner. She was wearing shades and a large fur coat. Shadows obscured her face but something about her seemed ominous. Henry simply waved it off, attributing it to nerves. Everyone in the bar had a sordid feel to them. No use worrying about one person over another.

Nearing the end of their set, the jazz band finished with a flourish and took a bow. Then they announced the next performer; "A house favorite, put your hands together for Mama Mandy!"

The patrons perked up and dutifully clapped. While the intrepid duo took a seat near the entrance, a large, black woman walked out, dressed in a sparkly teal blue dress. Her hair was set in curls and her lips were cherry red. She summoned the piano player, an old dark-skinned man who started playing a tune all too familiar to the patrons, or it must have been, seeing as they sang along with the woman. As the detective made the connection between her and the 'woman in blue', she finished her spirited song and walked off stage to take five.

"That's her," Henry turned to his partner, "That's the woman we gotta talk to."

"She's the one who has the information?" Betty couldn't keep her eyes of the loud, vivacious woman.

"Who else is wearing blue around here?"

Betty ultimately agreed and the two made their way to the singer. But first they needed a plan. Pulling the spry detective over to a corner, behind a wall that separating the bathrooms from the rest of the club, she informed him:

"This Mandy woman might not give up the information so easily."

"That's what I figure. Got any ideas on how to get it out of her?"

Betty mulled it over for a few seconds before she spoke up, "I think you'll have to charm it out of her. Like a true Dick Tracy."

Henry was not sold on the idea, "You mean just lead her on and trick her into giving up the information? I don't think I can."

"You want to be true detective, don't ya? These are just things that detectives do. So, push down your morals and think about the greater good."

Henry shook his head, "Well, I actually meant that I don't think I can physically do it. I'm not sure I'm even her type…"

"You kidding? You've got a young Gary Cooper thing going."

He looked flattered, "You really think so?"

She snatched his glasses off his face, "Now you do."

"Wait, I need those to see!"

"Don't worry, I'll be right here if you need me. Just focus on the big blue blur. Squint if you have to," she shoved him forward and slipped his glasses into her purse, fingers crossed.

Henry stumbled forward, looking incredibly nervous. The brief high he got from being compared to the tough, rugged actor quickly disappeared as he half blindly made his way to the grand piano on the corner.

"You okay, sugar?"

He turned to the sound of the voice. She was right in front of him, with what he assumed was a concerned look.

"Yes. Just had one too many, if you know what I mean," he said with startling ease.

The heavy-set singer looked him over and gave him a saucy smile, "Well you're definitely a looker. What can I do for you, sweetness?"

It worked! Not breaking pace he spoke quietly, "I need some information, Miss-"

She held up a hand, "People around here call me Big Mama Mandy," she leaned towards him, indiscreetly showing of her ample cleavage, "But you can call me Mama."

"Well, Mama, I need to know the whereabouts of a certain document and word is you're the one I need to talk to in order to find it."

She sidled over to him, "You a cop?"

"I'm a private investigator and I need to know where Mr. Bradford Meade has his will," he gave her what he hoped was a coy smile.

"A man of mystery? Ooh, I like that," she grabbed his arm and pulled him close, "Sugar, I got your information. But I'm gonna need a lil' something."

"What, uh, do you have in mind?"

Hiding behind the wall Betty watched on with growing annoyance. He was certainly taking his time and the lounge singer was taking the bait a little too eagerly. She gripped her purse tightly, trying to calm herself down. When the woman grabbed his arm and whispered into his ear she turned away and walked to the nearest available seat; a stool by the bar.

"Fix you a drink, miss?" The balding bartender was wiping down a glass and he gave her an impartial look.

"No, I'm just waiting for my friend to finish talking…" she looked behind her and almost gasped when she saw the black singer plant one right on him. She quickly turned back, regretting that image now seared into her brain.

"On second thought I think I will have a drink."

After she knocked back her drink and paid the man she turned around slowly, keeping her eyes down and walked back to her hiding spot.

"Oops! Sorry," she had bumped into someone. Looking up she saw it was her partner. Great.

"That you, kiddo?" He looked down at her and waved his hand an inch over her head.

"Okay, I get it. I'm short," she said indignantly.

"Just wanted to make sure," he grinned good-naturedly, "Got the information. I can't believe it worked!"

Henry held out his hand for his glasses, which Betty shoved into his hand. When he put them on he noticed the sullen look on her face and asked her about it.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about. What did you find from Big Blue?"

"She gave me a key to the back room. We've got ten minutes to find the paper; she says it's in a hidden safe."

"Fine. Let's go," she said hurriedly and walked towards the back of the club.

""""""""

The dark, dusty backroom was even more unsettling than the club. Henry fumbled around for a light switch before finding a drawstring above his head. When the light above him flickered on, Betty started looking around while he thought about where the safe could be. It was hidden, so it might be a wall safe. There were several old paintings hanging around and a few cabinets. Would they be able to look behind every single painting, move the cabinets over, and open up the safe in ten minutes?

"Found it!"

Oh. Well that was luck for you. Henry rushed over and watched as his partner put in the combination. With bated breath, she opened the safe and peered inside. Nothing.

"What? It's not here!"

"Looking for something?"

In the doorway stood a menacing figure. The woman from earlier; the one with the dark fur coat. With her sunglasses now off, revealing her dark, cold eyes, the two were able to recognized her, having had a run in with her on separate occasions; thwarting her earlier schemes. Despite it all, her gaze still sent chills down his spine.

The elegantly dressed woman seemed to know what they were after, and walking forward, her grey heels clacking on the hard floor, she held a out piece of paper between her long, spindly fingers.

"The will!"

"I take it you were after this as well?" She asked with a cold smile, "Quite a shame I got to it first."

Betty took a step forward, "Wilhelmina, you don't understand the importance of that document. You have to give it to me… please."

She laughed, "I don't understand the importance? On the contrary, I've got what I need from it, and now it's of no use to me," she took out a cigarette lighter, up to that time it was hidden away, and held it under the paper.

"This will won't see the light of day."

"No!" Betty tried to rush over but Henry held her back. There was no telling what this woman was capable of.

"Wise move, detective," she said simply before lighting the document ablaze and tossing it into the trash bin beside her, "By the way, you might want to put that out before the room catches on fire."

She promptly turned and shut the door behind her. They heard a resounding click and as they ran to the door they found that, much to their horror, it was locked. Wilhelmina simply laughed to herself while twirling her own copy of the key and heading outside.

'_Should've hired better investigators, Alexis,' _she thought to herself.

In the back room, Henry tried to ram the door down but all that resulted from his efforts were a bruised ego and an even more bruised shoulder. Betty had since smothered the fire with a dusty blanket and was now mournfully trying to make out what was left of the will. More ashes than paper, she gave up and let it fall back into the garbage can. Anyway, they had a more pressing matter to attend to.

"I shouldn't have let you come back here," Henry started to say.

She whirled to face him, "What do you mean? Without me you wouldn't have the combination! And I found the safe," Betty said in disbelief.

"But you could've easily given me the combination and I would've found the safe eventually. The lookout is just as important as the sleuth and if you waited outside you wouldn't be in danger. You wouldn't be stuck here with me. With no way out."

She shook her head and placed her hands firmly on her hips, "I wanted to join you and I knew the risks when I became your partner. Like it or not, we're in it for the long haul. I can handle this as well as you can."

He sighed and leaned against a lone bare wall – then promptly fell backwards. Betty was surprised to see the wall swivel open, revealing a secret passage way. Wooden walls and ceiling that seemed to go on forever into a dark abyss. It didn't matter where it would lead as long as it was out of that dusty, suffocating room.

"I can't believe it, a hidden door in the backroom!" She rushed over to see if he was okay. When she saw him get up, shaking the dust off his jacket, she cried happily, "You found a way out! Way to go, detective!"

"It was nothing," He said confusedly before rubbing his back, "First my shoulder, now my back… This is really tough on the old joints."

"Stop acting like an old man," she smiled and quickly found a small flashlight in a cabinet. They could use that to light their path.

With the small, yellow light in hand, the two headed down the dark tunnel, unsure of where it would lead, but not daring to voice their concerns out loud. Even when the flashlight started to flicker and the floors creaked noisily they plowed ahead. There was no turning back now.

About ten minutes of walking finally yielded a door at the end of the murky tunnel. Quickly finding that it was unlocked, Henry opened it and found himself in what could only be described as a dark secluded alley way. They were definitely outside the club, most likely in the back area. The dumpsters nearby confirmed this.

"We're outside," Betty breathed in the crisp air.

"Yeah, but what now? What do I tell my client?"

The pair looked downcast for the moment but quickly got out of the alley. After hailing a cab, they agreed to meet the following morning for a brief review before summoning Alexis and telling her the bad news..

""""""""

The morning after didn't bring much promise for the young detective. He wasn't able to get a good night's sleep and a quick call to Betty revealed the same problem plagued her. Since they were already awake, she let him know she was coming over. He would wait for her at his office, and after talking things over they would face Alexis. Together.

After hanging up he thought about his client's possible reaction. While he didn't want the tall blonde to be upset, he realized it didn't matter how she reacted because nothing she could say would make him feel worse than he was already feeling. He was his own toughest critic, and the lost case was really eating at him. Dick Tracy wouldn't have let himself be trapped in some backroom, helpless and unable to help his female companion. Dick Tracy would've kept his cool, smashed the door down, then single-handedly taken down the wicked Wilhelmina

But that's why he was Dick Tracy and Henry was not.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his reverie. Quickly grabbing the receiver and speaking into the mouth piece below him, he asked who it was.

"I heard you were looking for Bradford Meade's will."

He frowned, "I don't know who this is, but you're too late. The will is gone."

"Not exactly. Wilhelmina didn't torch the real will."

"What?" That got his attention, "How do you know that?"

"Doesn't matter. I've got the real will."

"Wait, so she…?"

"Was bamboozled."

Henry was confused, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You know swindled, hoodwinked, flimflammed, duped, outfoxed…"

"…So, you're saying she had a copy?"

"Bingo, bango we got a winner! Took you long enough. Now look, _detective_, I'm willing to hand it over," a pause, "For the right price."

"Alright, sure," he immediately downplayed his eagerness, "So, where do you want to meet?"

"Martini Bar on 58th."

"The new place…?"

"That's the one," the voice sounded sure.

"I'll be there. How will I know where to find you?"

"Don't worry. I'll find you."

With that, the line went dead. Henry hung up and started to get ready for this impromptu meeting. This was his second chance and he wasn't going to let himself down again.

He locked his door and started for the elevator but stopped when he saw the doors open and a familiar person pull back the iron gates.

"Betty."

"Hey, where are you going?" She walked over to him.

He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to involve her in yet another dangerous situation. But it was Betty. He couldn't lie to her. He had far too much respect for her to do such a thing.

"The will that Wilhelmina burned last night was a copy. I got a call from a guy who says he's got the real thing. I'm going right now to meet up with him."

Her eyes widened, "Were you going to just leave without telling me?"

He sighed heavily and put his hand firmly on her shoulder, "Look, I don't want a repeat of last night. I can't risk putting you in another dangerous situation. Not if I can help it, kiddo."

She brusquely shrugged his hand off and responded, "I thought we went over this before. I'm your partner, not some little _kid_ you need to protect." He winced at her reference to his nickname for her. She continued, keeping her voice level. Any rise or sign of emotion would belie her point, "I'm not asking to join you in a shoot out and I'd like to think you know me well enough to understand I won't get in the way. I just want you to respect me as a partner." Her eyes softened. The only emotion she would let herself show, "You say you do, but sometimes I wonder. Henry, don't I deserve that much?"

He looked down and finally nodded in acknowledgement, "You do. You really do. And I'm sorry, kid-" he caught himself, "Betty."

She finally smiled, "So where are we heading?"

"New place on 58th. I'll fill you in on the way."

""""""""

Henry entered the martini bar. It was mid-morning so there weren't many patrons inside. The bar was sleek, upscale, and well maintained. A sharp contrast to the jazz club from last night. Either way, he didn't want to take chances. The whole thing could've been a façade for some illegal sting in the backroom. This time he had the foresight to bring a weapon with him. Sort of.

"I don't think a wrench would help much in self defense," Betty said.

"Are you kidding? It's a hard, blunt instrument and if we get stuck in a place with bolts, this will be perfect."

"Whatever you say…"

"Mr. Private Eye, so we meet again," a suited man with coiffed hair greeted the astonished detective. He had a long ivory cane with him, and not a single wrinkle or smudge on his light colored suit. He was no criminal mastermind, more of a lackey than anything. They knew him from previous cases as well, and Betty was the one who recognized the well groomed man at first

"Marco!"

"Polo."

Betty gave Henry a slightly exasperated look, "I thought we weren't going to do this anymore. Remember last time?"

He smiled in embarrassment, "I'm sorry. It's an impulse. I'll behave."

Betty turned to the other man, "You're the one who has the original? But why would you give it up? You work for Wilhelmina," she accused.

"Please, my dear," he waved his hand as if shooing her away, "I work for her because she pays top dollar. I look out for number one and provided you have the goods…"

Henry pulled out a manila envelope from behind his coat and tossed it on the table in front of him. Betty quickly placed her hand on the envelope, making sure he didn't get any funny ideas.

"Where's the will?" She asked.

"What's the matter? You don't trust me?" Marco laughed lightly and pulled out his own manila envelope, setting it gracefully on the table.

Betty removed her hand and the two men eyed each other as they slowly reached for the opposite envelopes.

"You'd better not double cross me, detective," Marco warned.

"Same goes for you, Marco," Henry replied.

"… Polo. I'm sorry. I know I said I'd stop doing it too, but to be fair, Henry started it," Betty sighed.

"It wasn't cute the first time around, and it's not cute now," Marco said before abruptly lurching forward and grabbing Henry's envelope. He greedily ripped it open dumping the contents onto his hand. Henry was also quick to grab the envelope supposedly containing the will. Once he opened it, he was relieved to see the precious document inside.

"This better be the original or we'll be sure to tell Wilhelmina," Betty threatened.

"I'm not afraid of her," he said unconvincingly while clutching his precious payment, "And just so you know, I can just as easily tell Wilhelmina myself that _you_ stole the document from _me_."

He snapped his fingers and announced rather loudly, "Cooperate with Marco, and everyone goes home happy. But mess with Marco… oh, just know you _don't _wanna mess with Marco."

The pair looked at each other, saying nothing. But as soon as he left the bar, twirling his ivory cane flamboyantly, they couldn't help themselves and they whispered at the same time: "Polo."

They looked at each other and simply laughed.

"We're getting better at it."

"Yeah, before we probably would've said it all three times," she stifled her smile, "Now let's get out of here."

""""""""

As the sun set, the two were finally able to get in contact with Alexis Meade. She wasn't in the office all morning and the longer they had the will the more uneasy they became. _No one knew they had it_, the detective kept telling himself. There was no reason to be suspicious. But the two breathed a sigh of relief when Alexis finally called and told him she would stop by to pick up the will.

"I'll meet her outside. You stay up here," Henry said.

"What? Why?" Betty look irked.

"Just trust me on this. Please," he looked serious. She relented but said she would watch him from the window.

"Thank you."

He went downstairs, envelope carefully tucked inside his jacket. As the sky's orange and pink tones turned to purple dusk, Henry's unease grew. He glanced at his watch periodically, and after half an hour, he considered going back upstairs. He never imagined that someone could sneak up behind him, especially wearing heels. When he felt a cold metal object jammed against his back he knew he was in trouble.

"We're going to take a little ride, detective," her familiar voice whispered.

He was led to a black buggy on the corner, his eyes straight ahead, and the gun never moving from his back. He was taken to an abandoned warehouse quite a long distance from Manhattan. As soon as they stopped she ordered him to get out. Gun in her hand she led him inside, boxes scattered around and a small lantern their only source of light.

"I know you have the original."

"I don't know what you're talking about Wilhelmina."

"Don't play dumb," she hissed, "It didn't work when Marco tried it, and it certainly won't work for you." she cocked the gun, "I won't ask you again. Hand over the will."

He was cornered. But he had to stall, "Just tell me why you want it."

She gave him a condescending smile, "If you must know, I was to become Mrs. Bradford Meade. He died on me at the last minute and I know he left most of his money to his children, but he's also got something valuable hidden away. His will, if deciphered correctly would reveal where this small treasure is."

"The will has a hidden treasure map in it?"

"You could say that, now," she took a step closer, "Give the will to me and no one gets hurt. Believe me, I'd much rather keep my hands clean than have to do this."

"Fine," he reached in and took out an unmarked envelope. He hesitated before holding it out. Just as she got hold of it, sirens were heard, low at first but quickly growing louder. Soon the familiar blue and red lights came into view and Wilhelmina, with envelope in hand knocked her victim back against a wall and rushed out.

The black getaway car was kept running behind the warehouse and quickly jumping into the passenger seat she ordered the driver to step on it, making tracks and disappearing into the night.

Henry had fallen back hard against the metal wall, underestimating the older woman's strength. His senses were momentarily stunned, and his glasses flew off his face as he hit the ground. He groaned softly, feeling around for his glasses then just as swiftly he heard his partner's fearful cry.

"Henry!"

He found his glasses and quickly put them on before hurriedly rising to his feet, not wanting her to see him like that. He spotted Betty looking around frantically, a swarm of cops right behind her stormed the warehouse .

"I'm right here," he called out, "I'm fine."

She rushed over and looked up at the bruised detective, his constant reassurance the only thing keeping her from rushing him to the hospital.

"You followed me here," he said softly while adjusting his glasses.

"I saw her take you inside that car," Betty whispered as she clutched his arm, "You knew something like this might happen, didn't you? That's why you told me to stay in your office."

He gave her a meaningful look, "I had a feeling."

She wrapped her arms around him, just glad the detective was okay. He felt his heart race but she quickly pulled away, "Sorry."

"Don't be," he turned to an officer, "Looks like she got away, boys. My guess is she'll lie low for a while. Try Brazil," he winked at his partner. She smiled to herself. Her partner would be okay.

The officers ushered him out, and after securing the scene, one of them offered the shaken sleuths a ride home.

"So she got the will," Betty sighed, "I wish I'd gotten here sooner."

"On the contrary," he gave her a cagey smile, "I never said she got the will. I just said she got the envelope I was carrying."

She gasped, "You mean…?"

"The real thing is still in my office. I put a copy of my graduation certificate in that envelope. I guess she's probably realizing that right now."

She laughed, "Clever! Really, I would've never thought of that… you're amazing."

He shrugged modestly, "I might not have been able to pull it off if you didn't call the police."

She smiled, also looking modest, "Gotta look out for my partner…"

""""""""

With no more delays, Betty instructed the police car to take them straight to Meade corporations. Alexis was surprised to see her with the will, and she told her how she had gotten a call earlier from some mystery person saying the detective would meet up with her after 8 pm.

"Probably Wilhelmina, or one of her lackeys," Betty said indignantly.

With the document in Daniel's hands, and under the watchful gaze of Alexis, she seemed satisfied. The two didn't say what exactly they were looking for, nor did they give any indication that it was anything other than an ordinary will. After placing it in his desk, Daniel sincerely thanked her and Alexis said she would give the detective a call.

She rushed downstairs, meeting up with Henry, and told him their reaction. He didn't think much of it. As long as the case was solved and he would get paid, he didn't care what they did with the will. She wondered if she should've told the what Wilhelmina said.

"You know, about the 'hidden treasure map'."

"If you want I'll tell Ms. Meade when she sees me tomorrow."

They made their way back to his office; he had to wrap up some things and lock his door. As he finished up with his papers, putting the receipts in order, he turned to his partner.

"We should really celebrate, kiddo…" his hand shot up to cover his mouth.

"Impulse?"

"It slipped out," he said repentantly.

"It's okay. You know, I don't mind if you call me 'kiddo'. Just know you're the only I'll let call me that."

He smiled, knowing what she was implying. They truly were close, and he felt relaxed enough to invite her for celebratory drinks.

"Like in a bar or at your…" she quickly blushed, not willing to finish her sentence.

"My place?" He finished for her, not noticing the redness in her cheeks, "I do think I have bottle of red wine, if that's okay."

"Yeah. Great."

He started to lock up when he spotted the elegant Alexis Meade emerge from the elevator.

"Detective," she greeted politely.

"Ms. Meade," he returned the greeting, "I thought you were coming by tomorrow."

"I cleared some time," she turned to Betty, "I'm sorry, would you give us a moment?"

"Yes. Of course," she quickly walked off as the two walked back into his office and closed the door behind them.

"I want to thank you again for finding the will. My father's estate is safe now and it's all because of you."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad I was able to help in the end."

The grateful blonde sat back in his chair and slowly crossed her legs, watching his eyes as he followed her movements, "Really, detective. If there's _anything _I can do… I know it was a tough case for you…"

He looked at the blonde woman, the word "doll-face" coming to mind. But he leaned against his desk and fixed her with a knowing stare, "I really do appreciate your coming to thank me personally. Don't get me wrong, a woman like you doesn't walk into my office everyday."

She gave him a smoldering stare, and a smile to match it.

"If you'd really like to know how you could thank me," he deliberately leaned towards her, dwelling on his thoughts before continuing, "A pay raise would be nice."

Her smile dropped and her eyes widened in surprise, "You want more money?"

"Well, you did ask."

"Oh," she didn't expect that, "I… sure. That's all you want?"

"Yeah," he said cheerfully, "Nice to see you Ms. Meade. I trust you'll have the cash tomorrow?"

"Sure. Tomorrow."

The blonde left with a confused look on her face and a feeling she did something incorrectly. Betty watched her get into the elevator, disappearing downstairs. When Henry got out of his office he turned to the quiet young woman and offered his arm, "Shall we?"

"I don't think I can," Betty said suddenly, "I… have to go." Mumbling an apology and heading for the stairwell she left the detective dumbfounded. _'She was fine a few minutes ago…'_

Not wanting to let her go without making sure she was okay, he followed her down fifteen flights. Despite her head start, he caught up to her a block down and he grabbed her arm to slow her down.

"Are you alright, kiddo?"

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone. Go have drinks with Daniel's sister. Or better yet, go to that jazz club and get back with your big blue singer."

"I don't understand. Why are you so upset?"

"I know you just think of me as a friend. A co-worker. But when I saw you and Alexis in there, and even back in the club," she tried to get her emotions under control, "I just felt… awful. You kissing that woman, and I don't even know what you did with Daniel's sister-"

"I didn't do anything with her, and seducing that singer was _your _idea," he pointed out, "Why does it matter? You said so yourself: 'these are just things that detectives do'."

"I know what I said," she cried out in frustration, "It's just that…"

He furrowed his brows, her back was turned to him, making it impossible to read her. But even if she was looking at him, he wasn't sure he would understand the problem, "Just what? Tell me."

Betty looked absolutely miserable as she faced him, "I've read your novels; your Dick Tracy comics. Who does the detective always end up with at the end? It's not his plain Jane secretary. It's the tall, beautiful blonde. I can't compete with that. And I'm stupid to even think…" she just trailed off and looked away. She refused to cry over the situation. She knew her chances and she fell for him anyway.

Henry simply shook his head slowly, "You've got it all wrong. First of all, you're not my secretary. You're my partner. You know that. And second of all, I don't know if you've noticed but I'm _not_ Dick Tracy," he smiled a genuine smile.

She just looked up at him, heart pounding furiously. The way he smiled at her… was there a chance? Could he possibly feel the same way?

"You're a sharp cookie. Tough as nails but always willing to sacrifice your needs for others. You're one in a million, kiddo. I wouldn't give you up for any leggy blonde in heels."

"You… really mean it?" she whispered. Her face was heated and her heart was singing.

"Of course," he leaned forward mere inches away, "You're the one for me."

"Just kiss me," she breathed as she stood on tiptoes.

"See, that's what I mean. You take charge-" But he was already cut off when her lips were on his. The two pulled each other close, her hands around his neck and his on her waist. The two felt as if they were on top of the world.

As they pulled away, fog billowing around the dark, lamp-lit streets, the bespectacled girl smiled up at the bookish detective. The cobbled streets of the shimmering metropolis bore witness to this new, budding romance. A small glow of warmth – of deep friendship and love – in a sea of artificial lights and sights. The new couple let themselves be guided back to his place, as it all faded away into the silvery fog...

""""""""

"...Henry?"

"Hmm?"

"Wake up."

The familiar voice of his girlfriend brought him back to reality. He realized he was sitting in his couch, the television turned on. She was looking down at him with a sweet smile. Quickly rubbing his eyes, he smiled back.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Kiddo?" Betty looked amused, "Have you been watching old mystery movies again?"

"Can't beat the classics," he spoke softly, trying to shake off sleep.

"I guess not," she grabbed his hand, "You should get to bed. We both should."

He nodded and let her drag him to their room. Dreams of 'whodunits' and brave detectives not completely gone from his head.

---

_Wow. This was long. Hopefully I have captured the essence of the film noir mystery... despite never seeing one. Heh. But I still like the idea. And maybe someday I will see an entire movie from the 1950s. Man, all this mystery has me kinda missing writing for CSI. Even if they do have a ton of fics…_

_Well, anyway, respond if you can. I like reading reviews (even the __"__negative ones__"__) and thanks for reading!_


End file.
